


Wizards In Winter

by ABrighterDarkness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Mistletoe, Yule Blessings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21568690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness
Summary: “It’s a mistletoe,” Luna said with a shrug. “Not the best of house plants considering how much Nargles love them but they do have their customs.  You know them, yeah?”Steve felt his face heat and knew that she noticed when her small smile broadened. “Yeah, I know about mistletoe.”
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Steve Rogers
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14
Collections: Enchanted Wonders Holiday Collection 2019





	Wizards In Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Marvelously Magical's Enchanted Wonders Holiday Collection! 
> 
> Pairing: Steve Rogers/Luna Lovegood  
> Enchanted Item/Spell: Enchanted Mistletoe  
> Word Prompt: Gifts
> 
> I played a bit on words with "gifts", however :). 
> 
> The title of this fic comes from the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's "Wizards in Winter" which was my musical inspriation while writing. For me it kind of fit the work. Enjoy!

He was watching her again, he knew. And he knew it was probably creepy, he didn’t mean for it to be but he couldn’t  _ help it _ . Sitting inside a little coffee shop, the same one he had taken to visiting every time he was in town and got the chance despite the coffee in his hands doing absolutely nothing for him, making sure to get the table closest to the window so that he could see. 

All so that he could watch the woman dancing in the falling snow each day that it fell. 

It was different today though. There was something different about the energy in her movements. Steve might not have noticed if he hadn’t already been so entranced. The other times he had seen her, the other times that his attention had been so thoroughly captivated, there had been an effortlessness, a carefree feeling to her movements. As though she was genuinely dancing purely out of joy. Just because she wanted to and she could and no one would convince her otherwise. He had seen some of the odd looks--some downright nasty--that the woman had received by passersby but she either didn’t notice or paid them no mind. 

Steve wished he were that strong sometimes. To not care. 

Her movements still held the same sense of uncaring unflappability, her smile was just as serene, but there was something...stilted. As though she wasn’t moving quite as freely. As though something else held her concentration while her body continued to move without her. 

Steve attempted to shake himself from staring so blatantly. He didn’t even know this woman. He knew that she was beautiful, he wasn’t blind after all. She did dress a little oddly. Her outer layer--it wasn’t like any coat or jacket that Steve could recall seeing, it looked more like a hooded cape--was a light blue but shimmered in a way that he couldn’t describe. Her boots were a yellow so bright they might as well be neon with odd patterns. He could see a long skirt--or dress perhaps?--peeking from the jacket-cape-thing and draping over her boots. It was a mixture of reds, greens, golds, silvers, and blues in such a way that really, really shouldn’t have flowed so well and yet...somehow they did. Over all, Steve found himself certain that even Natasha and Tony couldn’t pull off such an odd combination as seamlessly as this unknown woman did. 

Her form suddenly turned towards the coffee shop and Steve attempted to pull his eyes away and focus on the cup in his hands. He wasn’t successful and felt a hot flush rise over his face and knew it was visible to anyone who might look his way. He knew she saw it when their eyes met. He swallowed heavily, feeling nerves crawl through his body and clench in his stomach as he tried to come up with some way to explain to her  _ why _ he was so fascinated with staring at her. 

He watched the small, serene smile that she seemed to always wear turn into something bashful and yet entirely playful. She studied him for a moment, head tilted in curiosity before she turned back away from the window and strolled casually away. She paused long enough to look back over her shoulder to meet his gaze and arched a brow in question.

Before he even realized what he was doing, the coffee had been abandoned on the table and Steve was leaving the coffee shop. The bell above the door brought him back to focus and he hesitated, just for a moment.

That moment cost him as she slipped around the corner of a building just a few blocks up. Steve braced himself for the cold air and took off after her, not for the first time grateful for the extra speed the serum granted him. It was just a moment or two before he rounded the same corner only to catch the edges of her bright blue cloak disappear around another corner just a ways ahead. Steve sucked in a breath as the excitement of the chase washed over him. 

A small part of his brain wondered if chasing a strange woman through the streets was  _ really _ a smart idea, but the rest of his mind dismissed it immediately. 

She had offered the challenge after all.

Steve tore down the street and around the corner the mystery woman disappeared around only to catch sight of her at the end of the street. She paused for a moment, turning to face him. Her eyes were bright and her smile even moreso. Steve wasn’t quite sure how such an image was possible, even with enhanced vision. He felt his mouth drop open and his body slow to a halt at the sight. 

She tilted her head again, brows arched playfully. She took a step backwards and Steve automatically mirrored the step, moving a step forward. Her grin brightened even more and she spun--like one of Nat’s moves, graceful and elegant--and took off down the street once more.

Steve wasn’t sure how long he gave chase. Catching sight of her at the end of one street or her cloak, or a flash of her hair. He wasn’t yet winded, but he knew he wasn’t far off. He wasn’t sure why he was still chasing this woman. Some part of him still wondered if he was officially crossing into creepy territory. 

_ Just a bit further _

The thought crossed his mind, echoed, as though planted but it helped to urge him on. It was only then that he noticed that he was no longer following her through the city streets, small though the city was. The landscape had changed and shifted to trees, some bare some evergreen. His pace then slowed to a hesitant walk as he caught sight of a single set of footprints.

He followed them until they led to a small cottage, encircled by the trees. He wasn’t sure that he would have noticed it had he not been actively following the footprints. Woodsmoke poured from the chimney and all the windows glowed with light and warmth, reminding him how long he had been out in the cold. He shuddered, not so much feeling the cold as remembering it. 

His footsteps were cautious and hesitant as he climbed the few short steps to the front door. A front door that, he noted, wasn’t latched but left agape just an inch or two. His instincts, which he had long since learned to listen to, were quiet. He didn’t sense any threat or potential for a trap. That didn’t mean it wasn’t a trap, however. 

His body tensed as he raised one hand to push the door open. There was no creak of tired hinges. The door opened silently and he entered the same, focused on ensuring his footsteps were light enough to barely disturb the dust that didn’t seem to exist on the pristine wood flooring. 

Steve felt his breath catch though as he caught sight of the interior of the cottage. A massive, brick fireplace held center stage with a warm fire crackling merrily in the hearth. A tree a few feet to the right, decorated with glittering lights that reminded of the shimmering cloak and various baubles that he likely couldn’t name even had he been in the presence of mind. The furniture was warm leather though the rug--a bright, vibrant combination of greens and yellows and pinks--matched the eccentricity that he had observed from her clothing. The kitchen to the right held many, many things that he probably couldn't name if he had tried, despite his best attempts at catching up. Things--candles mostly, it looked like--floated in the air above his head. Seasonal decor was thrown in a way that seemed intentionally haphazard throughout the space.

Despite the oddness, Steve got the overwhelming sense of  _ Safety _ from the little cottage. 

He slowly took a few steps into the small home, hesitant at first and then discouraged when he saw no sight of the woman he had been chasing through the town. He took another slow step forward to better see within the space, holding his breath nervously as he moved.

“You’ve been watching me,” a soft voice said from the shadowed area of the hallway between the kitchen and the roaring fireplace. “I thought we might actually speak outside of dance and gaze.”

Steve startled--not that he would  _ ever _ admit to  _ anyone _ \--and turned to the face of the woman he had been so captivated by. He licked his lips nervously, “I’m--I’m--sorry?”

“No you’re not,” she smiled, voice registering finally as light and whimsical. Steve felt his pulse kick up at the sound of her voice. Something he had resigned himself to not ever actually hearing.

“No,” he admitted softly. “No, I’m not.” He shifted slightly on his heels. “I’m Steve. Steve Rogers. I’m...I  _ am _ sorry if I--if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No need to apologize,” she murmured, watching him from under her lashes as she carefully worked in the kitchen, though Steve couldn’t tell what she was doing from his position by the door. “I’ve been watching, too. You’re not quite like the others are you?”

Steve had no way to answer that. He wasn’t even completely sure that he fully understood the question being asked.

“I could sense it, you know,” her lilting voice carried through the room. “And then I had a friend research you after the third time I caught you watching. Thought you might have some sort of malicious intent that I couldn’t read.”

“I’d never,” he insisted automatically.

“Mmm,” she hummed melodically. “You wouldn’t, would you? Not unless I gave you reason. It takes a truly strong person to recognize that line.”

“What--What’s your name?” He managed through his entrancement.

“Luna,” she smiled softly. “Luna Lovegood.”

“Luna,” he repeated, studying her intently. A small smile crossed his expression before he could help it as he watched her move from place to place. “Fitting.”

Her head tilted in curiosity, “How is that?”

“Have you ever spent an evening away from all of the city lights to look up and see the full, captivating light of the moon and the stars?” Steve asked. He knew that, at some point, he would find it in himself to be embarrassed by the oddly candid statement but at the moment it was the only truth he could seem to speak. 

Her lips quirked into a smile and she eyed him curiously, “I have, actually. I was quite proficient at Astronomy, actually.” She shifted his attention by moving from the kitchen with a tray ladened with a kettle, cups, and a variety of what looked like cookies. Steve automatically moved forward to take the seemingly heavy burden from her...only he couldn’t.

His eyes widened in panic when he felt himself stuck. Even his serum enhanced strength didn’t seem to be able to dislodge the hold upon him. He eyed Luna hesitantly, suddenly sure that he had been led unwittingly into a trap. 

She didn’t seem to notice as she settled the tray carefully onto the table in front of the comfortable looking couch. It was only when she straightened her posture and caught sight of his expression that her bright blue eyes widened in surprise. 

“Oh,” she said absently before her eyes drifted somewhere above his head. “Oh, George.” She shook her head, a smile that appeared rather fond crossed her expression and she slowly approached where Steve stood.

He was braced for an attack. He knew from experience that, despite her comparatively smaller frame, she could be immensely capable. Natasha was a perfect example, after all. Instead, Luna stepped into his space, hands relaxed easily at her side and head tilted back to meet his gaze.

“I really should apologize,” she said serenely, watching him intently. “But I don’t think that I want to.”

“What?” He managed to work out, tone harsh. Her lips quirked again and she nodded upwards, her own eyes moving from his to look over his head. Steve followed her gaze, looking upwards hesitantly and braced for blindsided attack...only to find a sprig of mistletoe?

He immediately dropped his gaze back to Luna’s in question. She ducked her head somewhat bashfully, “I have a friend who is quite keen at working enchantments on inanimate objects. This time of year, Mistletoe is his favorite.”

That...answered exactly none of his questions. Steve felt his brow furrow as he looked up and then back down again, “That doesn’t explain why I can’t move.”

“It’s a mistletoe,” Luna said with a shrug. “Not the best of house plants considering how much Nargles love them but they do have their customs. You know them, yeah?”

Steve felt his face heat and knew that she noticed when her small smile broadened. “Yeah, I know about mistletoe.”

“These mistletoe are  _ special _ ,” she said, playfully. “They won’t release you until you fulfil the requirements.”

Steve’s breath stuttered and he eyed her closely, “By requirements…”

Her eyes locked onto him and Steve subconsciously licked his lips shuffling a half a step forward. Gathering his confidence, he managed, “Is that what you want? I--I can probably find a way to break through. I’m not--I already broke into your home. I’m not going to--”

His words were cut off when the tiny blonde perched up onto her tip toes and pressed her lips soundly against his own. Steve exhaled heavily through his nose and allowed his hands to come to rest comfortably at her waist, holding her close but uncomfortably aware of his own strength.

She withdrew slightly, her small hands pressed against his chest. “You won’t hurt me. I assure you, I’m not quite as delicate as I look.”

“I can’t--I can’t risk it,” he insisted, resisting the urge to tighten his grip at her waist. “I’m a bit...I’m a bit  _ more _ that I look.”

“I know,” she said with a small shrug. Rather than pushing the matter she caught his much larger hand in one of hers and pulled him with a surprising amount of strength towards the couch and nudged him to settle into it. When Steve did as bid, Luna quickly prepared tea only glancing at him intently for a moment before adding both cream and sugar to his despite only adding a bit of lemon to her own.

Steve wasn’t sure what to make of it when the small woman placed the large mug into his hands and gathered her own smaller one--he found that oddly amusing though he couldn’t really pinpoint why--and settled on the couch leaning comfortably into his side. He only just actually met her, despite his frequent staring. Only just learned her name. Yet she felt comfortable enough to push into his space, manually shifting his arm across her small shoulders and settling into his side. 

“I don’t understand,” Steve admitted sometime later. It had taken him just that long to gather his courage to actually voice what was on his mind.

“You do,” she countered, her voice surprisingly sleepy. “You just don’t want to acknowledge it.”

“Okay,” Steve sighed. “But I don’t understand  _ why _ ?”

“You enjoy the moon and stars, do you not?” she replied. When he nodded, his chin against the crown of her head despite his attempts to keep some form of distance, Luna shifted to smile up at him. “Then you know the gifts of Yule. You’d not have come if this were not one of them.”

Steve blinked in confusion and frowned. “I’m afraid I was raised Catholic, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Catholic doesn’t mean you don’t  _ know _ ,” Luna huffed in amusement. “It just means you categorized it differently. Blessings of the season, yeah? Though, I suppose it’s not quite what you grew up believing it would mean.”

“How do you mean?” Steve inquired.

“‘ _ Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live’ _ That is what you were lead to believe?” Luna tilted her head back to eye him curiously.

“I think I remember something about that,” Steve said with a small shrug. “But then I had a dozen or so needles shoved into my body followed by unknown rays and turned me from a sickly, shrimp of a man into this. I don’t think I’ve got grounds to stand on to judge.”

“Little Steve was quite fetching as well,” Luna replied as though she had the knowledge of a century to speak on. “Though the chase might have taken a little bit longer. It would have still been quite fun.”

“It was fun anyway,” Steve countered automatically.

“I thought you might think so,” she smiled. Luna tilted her head curiously before sitting upright fully. She took the large mug from his hands and placed both of theirs back onto the tray before shifting back towards him. Steve watched a very brief flash of uncertainty cross her expression--something he had yet to see on her despite the hostile and mocking glares sent her direction while she danced freely in the falling snow. Before he could question the gesture, she shifted forward pressing her lips to his own once again, this time without the influence of a bespelled houseplant. 

He felt himself melt under her, his broad hands shifting her easily into his lap and feeling rather pleased at the small sound the movement drew from her. The kiss stayed light though not at all chaste, despite the conflicting descriptors in is mind. Suddenly, he felt her stiffen slightly and withdrew, expression questioning.

His concern was soothed by the gentle smile that she wore, “Happy Christmas, Steve Rogers.”

“Merry Christmas, Luna Lovegood,” he murmured quietly, a small, soft smile working onto his own expression. 


End file.
